The Beagle, a 2008 Toyota LC on a drift across Africa, piloted by Jim (FitzRoy) and Ann Colleen.
The Beagle, a 2008 Toyota LC on a drift across Africa, piloted by Jim (FitzRoy) and Ann Colleen.
We need fresh food and an internet connection which is clearly not something to be found in most of the tiny towns along our route. Neither the food nor the wifi. On a Saturday – definitely not a school day – we enter a reasonably size town and head down the main street. Two blocks later we are out of town and we find a some shade to assess the situation. There are two “camping” places, both in someone’s back yard that will work for us. One has wifi. We are in.
A crew of kids are begging at the fuel stop/store. Our visit is a novelty and we are fair game and obviously rich. This is not a new experience for us. Unsettling sometimes, but not new. We follow our own protocol – we tip the various service people, purchase something in a store or café, and don’t give anything to people begging. Ok, I step out of bounds here and I buy some peanuts to give the kids. Seconds later they are asking for money. It’s an unwinnable situation. But again, it is Saturday, there’s nothing else to do and it is unfair to judge an entire town based on a quick stop. The campground owner is sweet, the whole town quiets down by dark (except for the many barking dogs) and we leave in the morning, business taken care of and happy to be back on the road.
Campsites in Namibia can be funky (behind the fuel station) or, like farm camps, homey. We find the Lovedale farm camp at just the right time of day. Pulling in, a very big wasp immediately stings Jim. That had to hurt; the wasp was huge. I go up to find a camping site while he gets ice on the sting. I am greeted by a border collie, a three-legged black and white cat, and two Scottie dogs – I dig this place already (probably more than Jim does). We spend the night, pet the dogs, and roll on.
At the Tsauchab River camp an artist with a welding machine and access to tons of old metal parts has been extremely busy – the entire community area is filled with hilarious and ingenious sculptures. One or two of these creations might look silly, but when there are hundreds of them, it is delightful.
The Drongo campsite at Tsauchab has its ablution built directly into an enormous wild fig tree. Praying mantis the size of drones dive bomb the kitchen light. Red and black crickets walk up our legs as if we are tree trunks– and there are hundreds of them. 
The barrage of insects lasts about an hour, until 8:30pm or so, then they all seem to fade away. Except the crickets, which follow us out into the open while we try some night sky shots. They go up the tripod legs and climb on the camera. It is as if we are the entertainment in their short lives. Some of their lives were shorter than others!
Nakuflt Mountain Zebra Park is a gem, tucked away in the mountains above the Tsauchab River. A clear stream runs through the red rock walls and recent rains have turned the place sparkling green. We hike on a decent trail to swimming holes in the rocks and they are well worth the hike. Namibia here feels like an undiscovered country; this little park could be just a note in an explorer’s field journal “. . . good water here” or something.
Solitaire is our next stop before we can enter Sossusvlie. Along a major gravel road, it boasts a bakery and is a favorite stop for tour buses. Patience is a virtue here. Camping has been eliminated; we are told to go up the road to the guest farm which is outstanding in every way. Landscaping around the reception provides excellent birding and lizarding – a new word I just made up – and the lizards are as colorful as the birds. We stay two nights, why not? Sossusvlie sand dunes aren’t’ going anywhere noticeable any time soon.
In the filling station/market in the tiny town of Gruneau there is an interesting choice of meat pies – it is 11am, time for second breakfast, and we cannot resist the Gruneau special. It’s delicious; mince meat wrapped in a fresh pastry, not too sweet or greasy. I’d go back there for another one of those. Sometimes it’s ok to eat food at the gas station.
Food at grocery stores is pretty much all the same. No specialty breads available, only a plain white or plain brown – a bit of wheat flour added to the white. Most everything is heavily sugared, salted or fried. Rice is white. Pasta is semolina. We are obviously not in Cape Town anymore.
Vegetables and fruit are the real treat if you can find them. The citrus is particularly beautiful and delicious. And grapes, of course. Bananas taste like bananas should. The pears are so good we spring for a big bag. I don’t know if the potatoes are the Yukon Golds we have at home but they look the same and are delicious. Salad greens are limited. To store all this, we had add a soft-sided cooler to the mix of freezer and fridge. We aren’t going hungry. Yet.
Having a beer at the bar adjacent to our camp (nice place, really), the proprietor explains that he raises and processes game meat – would we like to take some? Oh yeah. Meat is on the table these days and we buy oryx borewores (game meat sausages), lamb steaks, and venison patties. The proprietor was funny – he says chicken is just for emergencies in Namibia.
One-pot meals are the goal. We have a “slow cooker”; it’s a fabric bag carefully filled with insulation and you put your pot of beans or rice or whatever in it and the bag will keep the food cooking as long as needed, just like a crock pot at home only you don’t need electricity. I leave food in it to cook overnight and so far that has been successful. A 10-inch flat bottom dutch oven and a smaller lidded saucepan (good quality) are essential utensils. And the coffee press. There is instant coffee for lunch stops; to make it more drinkable there is cold sweetened condensed milk to add. We can detox when we get home.
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